


Pete-ietro

by Metamorphases



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, WandaVision (TV), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, I'm done tagging things, Scientist Wrangler Darcy Lewis, Screwing around with the universes, accept it, cute and fluffy Peter Maximoff, i don't know how to tag things, just don't look too close
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-12 01:06:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29751756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Metamorphases/pseuds/Metamorphases
Summary: **WandaVision spoilers are possible**I don't really have the time to write a full story, but like J.R.R. Tolkien in the 30s, I am starved for content and therefore will write it myself. These are a series of unrelated (unless otherwise specified, but probably not going to happen) vignettes about the relationship between Darcy and Peter, or Darcy and Pietro, depending on whoever I felt like writing on any given day (You can just sub one in for the other. Who cares? Right, Agatha?). They vary in length, setting, inspiration, different jobs Darcy might have, posting times, etc. Also I've done weird stuff like transplant Peter into the Avengers even though Pietro would make more sense. Probably best to not look too closely. Just embrace the chaos and (hopefully) enjoy. Thanks, Babes!Also I've never posted anything on here before, so if something's wonky, feel free to let me know.
Relationships: Darcy Lewis/Peter Maximoff, Darcy Lewis/Pietro Maximoff
Comments: 6
Kudos: 24





	Pete-ietro

**Author's Note:**

> I was inspired for this one by listening to the lyrics to Time in a Bottle. 
> 
> Enjoy adorable Peter being extra soft and cute and thoughtful. 
> 
> "Croce makes my mom frisky." - Jess Day

Darcy had noticed that sometimes she would feel her hair rustle with no obvious breeze. She would drop things like she had been surprised by nothing. She’d just sometimes feel like there was someone else in the room, but there wasn’t. The music playing in her earbuds would have a strange little blip in it, or sometimes her ears would pop.

And despite what Bucky said, she _knew_ that door closed slower than it should have that day. She had given him some options on where to shove his _Come on, Darcy, that’s just silly._

She suspected a ghost at first, or Vision, or someone with an invisibility gift that she had yet to be introduced to. Although, if there’s was an invisible person hanging around, she would be worried. She hadn’t seen that file and she’d seen _all_ of the files. And Vision had been warned off of hovering in corners mid-phase so no one could see him. Clint and Tony hadn’t cared about how much Vision was learning through observation.

No, she knew exactly who was doing this to her. She was looking at him through the galley window of her apartment kitchen.

“Peter,” she said, drawing the man’s eyes away from the TV screen and stopping the blurred motion of his thumbs on the controller for Darcy’s old GameCube.

He _hmm?_ ed at her, one eyebrow arching. Darcy was momentarily distracted by how dark his eyes were. She felt her chest hitch at the sight of him. It was always so surprising to her, just how much he affected her without even trying.

“Darce?” Peter said, zipping to stand right in front of her. He was bent slightly to meet her eye-level and had one hand on her forearm. “You alright?” Those same eyebrows were furrowed now. She couldn’t help but smile.

“What’s it like?” she asked. At his increasingly confused and concerned look, she clarified. “When you’re running. What does everyone else look like?” He leaned back from her.

“Well, they’re barely movin’,” he said with a shrug. “I mean, even bullets are basically at a stand-still. Why? Why’re you askin’?”

Darcy smiled even bigger and leaned up to kiss his cheek. When she pulled back, she had to giggle at how cute and confused he looked.

“You’re freakin’ me out, Darcy. What’s going on?”

“Peter, I know what you’ve been doing,” she said.

“I haven’t been doing anything. I’ve been playing Nintendo since I got back.”

“Not today,” she said, huffing out a breath. “Just… recently. The last couple weeks or months. You’ve been spying on me.”

His eyes widened and he stepped back with his right foot. “I—” he stuttered. Darcy arched an eyebrow, daring him to deny it. He sighed when he saw her expression and looked at the floor. “I wouldn’t call it spying,” he mumbled. He looked so cowed; Darcy thought it was precious. She kissed the tip of his nose, right where her favorite freckle was.

“I’m not mad, Peter. I mean, I did vaguely think I might be losing my mind until I realized it was you.”

He looked back up at her with a small, slightly embarrassed smile on his face. “I’m sorry. It almost certainly won’t help, but if it does, I didn’t think you’d ever notice.”

“Yeah, you’re right, that doesn’t help,” Darcy said with a laugh, turning from Peter and leaving the kitchen. She turned left and walked down the small hallway to the living room, taking a seat on the couch Peter had just vacated. He shuffled in after her and plopped down on the couch next to her.

He didn’t say anything at first, just looked at his hands folded in his lap before unfolding them and drying them on his jeans. His leg started to bounce.

“So,” he finally drawled, looking over and then up at Darcy’s face. “You’re _not_ mad?”

“No,” she reassured him. He nodded and then she continued, “I do want to know what exactly you’re doing, though. It is kind of strange, the idea that you could basically just do whatever you want to me while I’m frozen in time. I mean, you could be drawing dicks on my face. You could be doing something worse than that.”

Peter huffed out a laugh. “When I do that, I’m not actually _doing_ anything to you. I’m just… looking at ya.”

“You’re just _looking_ at me?” Darcy asked, now with her own confused expression.

Peter rubbed the back of his neck nervously and smiled at her. “Yeah. I just…” He trailed off, like he wasn’t sure how to phrase it.

“You just…?” Darcy prompted after a couple seconds, wrapping her hand up in one of his. His palms really were sweaty and Darcy felt a little bad that he had actually been nervous about this conversation.

He sighed and laced his fingers with hers, rocking their joined hands from side to side.

“I just am sometimes either training, or in a meeting, or a couple times I’ve been on a mission relatively nearby and I suddenly just _really_ wanna see you. I don’t know why, but it’s like suddenly you’re all I can think about. And when that happens, I just come by to look at you for a second. Not even a second, really. But that’s it, Darce, I swear. I’ve never even touched you.” He tilted his head a little from side to side, looking off to the left. “Ok, that’s not necessarily true. One time you were walking outside and it was windy and your hair was down and I couldn’t see your face, so I did move it out of the way. But other than that, I’ve never touched you, I promise. Darce, you gotta believe—”

She pulled her lips away from his and smiled at the way he leaned forward a little, eyes closed, chasing her lips. He opened his eyes and smiled at her.

“I believe you,” she said, pecking his lips, his cheek, his nose, his forehead. He pulled her back in for a deeper kiss and Darcy pushed him back into the couch, moving to straddle his lap.

“That’s just about the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard, Peter,” Darcy told him, resting her forehead against his. He smiled and took a deep breath in through his nose. His eyes were closed, but he opened them and at this proximity, Darcy could see the deeper dimensions of his brown eyes.

“Honestly, Darce, you have no idea how relieved I am. I thought for sure this was moving towards some kind of ‘that’s so creepy I never wanna see you again’ kind of territory.” She smiled and kissed him again, bringing her hands up to either side of his neck.

“No, Pete,” she said. “In fact, I think I’m feeling a very different type of emotion.” She moved her hands up into his hair, biting her lip and lifting an eyebrow suggestively. Peter’s lips stretched into a megawatt smile.

“Oh, yeah?” Darcy nodded and Peter’s left hand moved to cup the back of her neck. For whiplash prevention.

////\\\\\\\////\\\\\\\////\\\\\\\

After that conversation, Darcy was let in on Peter’s little game.

One day she was in the lab, discussing something with Tony when suddenly there was Peter, smiling and pecking her on the lips in his tactical gear. “Gotta run, Babe,” he said with a wink, swiping his thumb across her lower lip before he was gone. He couldn’t have been there for more than a second or two.

There was the sound of porcelain breaking as Tony’s espresso cup and saucer shattered on the ground. There was coffee running down his Van Halen t-shirt and Darcy couldn’t help but laugh at his bewildered expression. “What in the Speedy Gonzales _fuck_ was that? What the Road Runner, Darcy? Why aren’t you freaking the fuck out about that Tasmanian Devil?”

Darcy just laughed as she walked out of Tony’s office. She had already gotten the info she needed from him.

When a very impressive, laser-embossed, brushed steel “No Sonic the Hedgehog Allowed” sign appeared on the wall outside Tony’s lab the next day, Darcy ran into Jane’s lab to grab a Sharpie and scrawl _Couldn’t think of another Looney Tune?_ in the space below the words.

////\\\\\\\////\\\\\\\////\\\\\\\

A few weeks later, Darcy was in the communal kitchen, fixing dinner for the team who were incoming from a scuffle in the Midwest. Something about a science experiment gone wrong. _Like always_ , Darcy thought with a roll of her eyes.

She had Friday playing music for her and was just watching her marinara sauce simmer. So it wasn’t a fancy dinner, they could bite her. It had been a long day for her too. She was busy justifying her dinner selection to no one and swaying her hips along to the incomparable Dolly Parton’s “9 to 5” when suddenly there were hands on her hips and someone moving in time with her.

“Hi, Steve,” she purred, laughing when Peter stilled immediately. She turned around in his hands and feigned surprise. “Oh! Peter. Sorry, Darlin’…” she trailed off, running her hands up his arms to his neck while still dancing along to Dolly.

“You think you’re a real cut-up, huh? Really funny girl?” he asked, smirking at her.

“Maybe,” she admitted, leaning up to kiss nothing because suddenly she was alone in the kitchen again. She blinked and noticed a slip of paper off of the shopping pad was folded in her hand.

_Gone to shower._

_Your boy Steve and the_

_other quinjet riders should be_

_back in about 15 minutes._

_P._

Darcy smiled and turned back to stir her sauce only to realize her spatula had been stolen. All of the kitchen utensils had been taken from the holder. All of the cutlery was missing from the kitchen. Another note was sitting on top of the empty silverware organizer.

_I think I’m funny too._

“ _PETER_!” Darcy shouted at the top of her lungs, taking the sauce off of the cooktop so it wouldn’t burn while she went to find a spoon or one of Natasha’s garrotes, whichever she came across first.

////\\\\\\\////\\\\\\\////\\\\\\\

On the morning of her birthday, Darcy had intended to sleep in. She always did, on her birthday. She had taken the whole day off and her plans were to sleep-in, eat cheesecake, get her hair cut and styled to perfection, go for a _really_ nice dinner with the compliments of Tony Stark, meet the team for karaoke barring a world catastrophe that required their attention, and screw Peter’s absolute brains out. She didn’t care about the order of these events, and she thought a few of them might occur multiple times during the day. Especially the cheesecake.

_Intended_ being the key-word. It was only 6:29, pale pre-dawn light seeping in from between the blinds, when there was a warm hand on her bare shoulder. “Darce,” Peter whispered, rubbing her shoulder. She grumbled in response, rolling onto her stomach and away from his hand. “Baby, wake up,” Peter said. When she opened her eyes, Peter was laying on the bed and looking directly at her.

“Peter Maximoff,” Darcy grumbled, “what did I say to you last night?”

“You said, and I quote, ‘Do not wake me up, on pain of death or withholding of sex.’”

“So which will it be, Pete? Death or no sex?”

“Well obviously I’m choosing death,” Peter said, rolling his eyes, “But this is important. You didn’t have all of the information when you made that ultimatum and trust me, you’ll be happy I woke you up. I found something while running this morning.”

“That’s a bold claim, that I’ll be happy,” Darcy told him, sitting up against the headboard since she was incapable of going back to sleep once she had been woken up. “What did you find that is so important I had to be woken up at 6:30, Pete?” She rubbed her eyes.

“Put on a hoodie and I’ll show you.” The bed rocked slightly and then Peter was back, one of his hoodies in hand. Darcy took it and then Peter was at the bedside, giving her a hand getting up. She shoved her feet into her slippers and shrugged on Peter’s hoodie, zipping it over her thin tank top and pulling her hair out of it. Her ears popped and she looked down to see her slippers had been replaced with her socks and perfectly-tied day-to-day Converse. She just shrugged, still roughly 60 percent asleep.

“Alright, Peter,” she said, holding her arms out, “Take me.” Peter chuckled as he turned around and crouched so Darcy could slowly and groggily wrap her arms around his neck. He hoisted her legs up, she tucked her head into his neck, and they were off.

Darcy’s motion didn’t stop like Peter’s so she rocked a little violently when he stopped. She was about to say something when suddenly her feet were on the ground and his finger was pressed against her lips. He was looking intently at her. She raised an eyebrow.

“You gotta be quiet,” Peter whispered. “Walk as softly as you can.” It was only now that Darcy realized they were standing in the middle of the woods. Peter grabbed her hand and started sneaking through the trees, bent over slightly. Darcy followed suit and the two walked about ten yards before Peter crouched down behind a bush. Darcy got down with him.

_Ready?_ Peter mouthed at her. Darcy nodded and Peter slowly spread the branches in front of them. Darcy almost gasped but Peter _shhh_ ed very softly under his breath.

In front of them was the most picturesque, Disney’s _Bambi_ sight Darcy had ever seen. There was a tiny hollow made by a few trees and nestled in the new spring grass was a momma deer and two babies. One of the fawns was sleeping and the mom was licking the other one clean. The babies couldn’t have been more than an hour old.

Darcy literally felt her eyes watering up, it was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen.

“They’re so beautiful,” she whispered to Peter, leaning into his shoulder to get a better look. She also realized he was warm in the chilly morning air.

“They are,” Peter whispered back. They looked for a few more moments before the momma deer looked up at them. Darcy tapped Peter’s wrist and he let go of the branches he was holding, moving back from the scene as quietly as he had approached, pulling Darcy along behind him. Once they were far enough away to not startle the deer, he picked her back up and took off, depositing her back in the bed, shoeless, with him pressed up against her back, rubbing heat into her arms.

“Worth it?” he asked into her hair, kissing her temple.

“That was the only acceptable way I’ve ever been woken up on my birthday,” she assured him, rolling over and kissing his nose. He smiled and kissed her quickly on the lips.

“You wanna lay in bed for a few hours before actually getting up?” He asked her. She nodded, eyes already closed, nuzzling her head underneath his chin.

**Author's Note:**

> Dear WandaVision show-runners: what the fuck happened to Pete-ietro? Give him back, please.


End file.
